


Getting Bram to the Tilt-a-Whirl

by kendra189



Series: Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda - Blue's Bravery Series [2]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Bram Greenfeld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendra189/pseuds/kendra189
Summary: Missing scene in between Simon sending Bram the email asking him to meet at the Carnival and Bram showing up at the Tilt-a-whirl.or,An exploration of Bram and Garrett's EXCELLENT friendship :)BOOK-Canon Compliant
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier
Series: Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda - Blue's Bravery Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170590
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72





	Getting Bram to the Tilt-a-Whirl

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I re-read the book and this scene kind of formulated in my mind :) 
> 
> Unlike my other stories that are MOVIE Canon Compliant, this one is BOOK Canon compliant. 
> 
> Also - I have a tendency to think of Bram as perfect in my head. So I tried to make him (or at least his thinking) a TEENY TINY bit flawed in this story, lol.
> 
> I hope you like it!

I take a big breath in and look around Garrett’s room, trying to calm my anxiety. I spin around in his desk chair and look at Garrett sitting on the bed staring at me.

I can’t stop thinking about Simon; about the fact that I _know_ Cal Price asked Simon out and the fact that Simon hasn’t used my phone number despite my giving it to him almost two weeks ago.

No call. No text even. Not one.

I’m spiralling, and I know it.

Garrett, being the wonderful friend he is, has been with me all day. All weekend, really. We had breakfast at Waffle House together, went to the matinee performance of _Oliver!,_ the _third_ time I dragged Garrett with me, and he dutifully came all three times, without complaint. He even said nothing while I failed to pay attention to the play, only swooning over Simon the entire time. We then blew off some steam on the soccer pitch together and then had dinner with his parents. 

Now, he’s quietly and patiently letting me freak out about Simon. _Again._

I can’t seem to talk or even think about anything except Simon. And my panic that I waited too long and ruined any chance of possibly getting to be with him.

I’m so worried about it that I am actually afraid I might cry.

But I try to keep it together while I’m hanging out with Garrett. He’s being a great friend and I don’t want to add dealing with an emotional breakdown to the list of all the stuff he’s doing for me.

“Why hasn’t he called? Or texted?” I ask again.

“I don’t know, man.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. He asked me to give him my number so many times. Seriously, _so_ many times, Garrett. I finally do, and he doesn’t want it anymore?”

“I don’t know-”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure he already _has_ my number in his phone. So the second he plugged in Blue’s number, it would come up as “Bram Greenfeld”. He should know who I am by now.”

“That’s true.”

“So if he knows that, _how_ have I not heard from him?? _I don’t get it_.” I’m stressing myself out again. I can feel it.

Garrett doesn’t say anything for a minute.

So I continue, “He must have decided he doesn’t _want_ to contact me.”

“No.” Garrett interrupts. “There’s no chance of that. Bram, I’ve told you already, the only explanation that makes any sense to me is that he hasn’t found the note yet.”

“HOW could that be possible?? He’s had the shirt for over a week.” I say emphatically.

“God, this is, like, torture.” I say, more to myself than to Garrett. I look up at the ceiling to try and calm myself down.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe he’s decided to save the shirt for a special occasion? Like his first date with Blue?” Garrett says hopefully.

I can’t help but smile at him. He’s being so supportive. I’m so lucky to have him as my friend. I’m sure I’m driving him crazy right now but he’s patiently letting me obsess and talk in circles.

“What if I waited too long, Garrett?”

Garrett just looked at me with an empathetic look that just made me feel ten times worse.

“What if, since asking for my number, Cal Price actually asked Simon out for real and Simon hasn’t contacted me because he’s… moved on?”

“Bram, buddy. There’s no chance of that.” Garrett stops and sits up in his bed to look at me. He’s clearly about to continue with something long-winded. I look at him so he knows he has my full attention.

“Let’s just look at this from Simon’s perspective for a second, ok?”

I just nod for him to continue.

“Simon’s been emailing with Blue for months. And you guys got super tight and, from what you’ve told me – the emails definitely got flirty and pretty personal as the months went on. Am I right so far?”

I nod.

“So, _while_ this was going on, Cal is in the play with Simon, sees him all the time and is flirting with him in person….”

I wince.

“So Simon’s chatting with someone online, _and_ his castmate is also flirting with him and making it clear he’s interested…” Garrett summarizes. I close my eyes and nod.

“Ok. Listen, Bram. I know you’re upset that Simon guessed Blue was Cal, but it’s not really his fault. You really haven’t given him a ton of clues, yet. For Simon, he suddenly found himself getting some… anonymous male attention online and not anonymous male attention from someone in school. Without more information, it’s not really that shocking that Simon’s mind tried to blend them into one person.”

That makes sense logically. I try and rationalize with my brain that, if I was in the same spot, I’m sure I would look for Blue in Cal too, just to see if that made sense. But my heart just can’t shake the fear that Simon wants Blue to be Cal.

Garrett, ever the mindreader, keeps going: “I wanna be clear, Bram. This does NOT mean that he wanted Blue to be Cal. I know you’re freaking out about that. It just means he connected two seemingly similar things in his mind. From what you’ve told me, he quickly figured out that they aren’t the same and was immediately, like, super apologetic to Blue about guessing wrong, right?”

“Yeah...”

“And! Cal asked Simon out _after_ Simon found out that he wasn’t Blue, right?”

“Yes…. What does that matter?” I ask, no longer following Garrett’s point.

“There’s no way they are dating. No way-“

“You _don’t_ know that.” I counter. I know that Garrett’s trying to be supportive but it doesn’t track in my brain that Garrett can say that definitively.

“I do know, though.”

I clearly look dubious, but Garrett seems determined to make his point.

“Simon spends months emailing with Blue, and getting close with him. Do you really think he would just … completely turn his back on that, on Blue, because a real person asked him out on a date?”

“Maybe….. if he _likes_ Cal….” I say. I don’t know why I’m being my own worst enemy here and forcing a debate with Garrett. I know Garrett’s trying to appease me and he’s being a really good friend.

“Plus, think about it Bram. If Cal and Simon were together, we definitely would have heard about it by now. Simon’s out to the whole school and Cal is too. That gossip would have _flown_ through the halls.”

“Not necessarily. Simon might have asked Cal to keep a lid on it until he’d had a chance to talk to Blue… or they might just be low-key people…”

“Lastly, Bram - we know Simon. He’s a _really_ good guy. He would never start dating Cal and not provide some kind of closure or explanation to Blue. He would never do that to Blue….” Garrett casually gestures toward me. “To you.”

“Bram, you obviously care about Simon a lot. You _have_ to believe that Simon cares about you too and would never do that to you. I know you’re about to say that Simon might be putting it off or procrastinating, but Simon wouldn’t do that - not when someone’s feelings are on the line. I’d bet a lot of money that if Simon had said yes to Cal. Simon would have emailed Blue right away to tell him. Simon wouldn’t leave Blue hanging.”

That really guilts me, because I know Garrett’s right. I’m not giving Simon the benefit of the doubt which he very much deserves. Instead I’m choosing to live in my insecurities about Cal. That’s not fair to Simon, or to me and it’s definitely not going to help _us_. 

I’m just so afraid to find out why Simon’s not using my phone number.

I look at Garrett and decide to let him off the hook. “I know you’re right, and I’m sorry I keep bugging you about this. We can talk about something else-”

“-HEY.”

Garrett interrupts me. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m not trying to change topics or get you to stop talking about this. I will talk this out with you for as long as you want, until we’re both _Blue_ in the face…. _Heh heh_ ” He laughs at his Blue pun for a second before continuing,

“I just want to make sure that you are not going to give up on Simon. I’m trying to get you to see that there isn’t enough proof here to justify giving up on him yet. There is, in my opinion, NO proof that he’s given up on you.”

I nod. “Ok. You’re right. I know you’re right. And I needed to hear that about having faith in Simon. I do. I know he wouldn’t leave me hanging if he’s moved on. I completely trust him……. I …..”

Suddenly I realize I'm ready. I'm ready to say it out loud.

“I love him.”

Garrett looks completely astonished. And his face softens a bit as my confession sinks in. “You do?”

I look at Garrett squarely in the face and nod.

“Okay!” Garrett says. “Then let’s make a plan. What can you do to find out what Simon’s thinking? To get him to check in the shirt and move this forward?”

“I don’t know.” I respond. “I really don’t. Email him again? Ask him why he hasn’t texted me?” But I immediately shake my head in disgust at my own suggestion. “That’s so _needy_ and _desperate_.”

“You could go up to him in person and ask him out… You can say _‘I’m Blue. I love you, Simon Spier. I want to take you out on a date.’_ …. I’d bet my _left nut_ he’d say yes.”

My whole body constricts in anxiety. That sounds completely terrifying.

The horror on my face must be visible to Garrett who chuckles and immediately says “Ok, ok. Maybe not something quite that direct…”

He looks down at his blanket. “If you don’t want to reveal yourself so bluntly – I guess it has to be another email, but what can the email say?...”

I know I have to be the one to come up with the answer here. If I’m going to be brave and fight for Simon, I need to be the one to put in the work.

I straighten up in the chair with a renewed focus.

“What if I just email him and say something like:

_‘Hey – I hope you got the shirt and that you like it. I haven’t heard from you in a while and I was wondering if your silence means something specific, or if you simply haven’t found the note in the shirt yet?’_

– Is that too direct? Do you think that’s a good thing to email? ”

“No, man. I think that’s perfect. It’s direct. It tells him you want to keep talking to him and it points out to him that you’re wondering why he hasn’t used your number yet. If he’s found it, he’ll answer why he’s hesitated, or, like I’ve said – _most likely_ – he hasn’t found it, he will go straight to the shirt, and the rest will. be. history!” Garrett says and smiles a big grin at me.

“Okay. Yes, okay. This is good. I'm gonna do it.”

I’m motivated. I want to do this. I want to talk to Simon. I want him to talk to me. I want him to know who I am and I want us to be a thing.

“Can I borrow your computer?” I ask Garrett.

Garrett doesn’t respond, he just gets up and reaches into his bag and pulls out his laptop and hands it to me.

“Just don’t be too shocked at my browser history. We both know how you feel about naked ladies.” Garrett jokes and smirks.

“ _Funny_.” I say and give him a sarcastic look.

Garrett just smiles at me and turns his attention to his phone.

I open up the laptop and log into Gmail, already composing the email in my head. Once I log in, I’m surprised to see a notification from _hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_. An email he sent this morning at 9:30am.

Almost twelve hours ago.

As I start to read the email, I begin to feel totally overwhelmed. By him, by his boldness. His conviction. His bravery for sending an email like this. He’s putting his heart on the line. He’s telling me he’s flirting with me, and, oh my God, he just said _love_. He wants to kiss me. And he wants to meet tonight.

I’m getting more worked up the more I read, and it morphs into panic as I read that Simon’s been at the carnival since 6:30pm. I glance at the clock in the corner of the screen and see that it’s already 8:10pm.

“OH MY GOD.” Is all I manage to say. I’m perched all the way forward on his desk chair and my heart is going a mile a minute.

Garrett, who has obviously been paying attention to me as I’ve been reading, says, “What’s the matter?”

I look up at him. “Can you drive me to the carnival at Perimeter Mall? Like, _right now_?”

I’m already standing. If he says no, I’ll have to call an uber. But he won’t say no. I know he won’t.

“Yeah, of course. I mean, I think it closes soon. What’s going on? Did Simon send you another email?”

“Yes, he wants to meet Blue tonight. He’s there now. He’s been there for 2 hours already. Oh my God, I’m gonna miss him.” I pinch the bridge of my nose in horror.

Garrett is instantly off his bed and putting his jacket on. “Ok, don’t panic. Even if you miss him, I will drive you straight to his house and you can explain you only just got his email.”

We both head out of his bedroom toward the front door, throw our shoes on and hop in his mom’s old Dodge Caravan.

Once we pull out of the driveway, Garrett says “So what else did the email say? Did he find the note in the t-shirt?”

I’ve already pulled up the email on my phone and am re-reading it, revelling in the wonderful things Simon has written to me.

“No, I think you’re right about that. I don’t think he’s found it yet. He must have never even tried the shirt on. And the more I think about it, that is just…. _so_ Simon.” I say, and let out a little laugh.

Simon, who has a romantic soul and cherishes music and adores Elliott Smith and cares about Elliott Smith’s opinion even though he’s been dead for 15 years. Of course Simon would treat the shirt like something special rather than an ordinary piece of clothing. I should have known. I also can’t help but hope he’s made a treasure out of the shirt because it’s from me.

“He also basically said that even though he doesn’t know who I am yet, he doesn’t care because he knows who Blue is and he wants to meet me no matter who I am and he wants to….”

I trail off, I don’t know if I want to tell Garrett that Simon says he wants to kiss my face off.

Garrett glances over at me “Bram Greenfeld! You’re _blushing_!!!! What did Simon say he wants to do when he meets you??” 

I just look over at Garrett and smile bashfully.

“Just please hurry. I don’t want to miss him……. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You won’t. He’s gonna love you.”

We arrive at the carnival just after 8:30pm. I spot Simon’s car in the lot so I’m almost positive he’s still here.

Garrett and I both perch at the top of the stairs leading down to the carnival gates and survey the grounds as much as we can.

The carnival is closing in less than 30 minutes so it’s already emptying out and people are flowing out the exit in a steady stream.

I spot Cal and some of the other theater kids and feel my heart constrict in a moment’s panic. But no, Simon isn’t with them-

“-there he is.”

I look over at where Garrett’s pointing and, sure enough, there’s Simon. By himself. He’s walking slowly and I see him walk over to the tilt-a-whirl.

God _damnit_.

“Go.” Garrett says and gently nudges me on the back.

I run down the stairs and buy a single ride ticket from the clerk. I break into a full run to cross over to the tilt-a-whirl. I’m still about 50 yards away when I see Simon hand over a ticket to the ride attendant and climb into one of those godforsaken pods.

When it becomes clear that I’m going to make it with lots of time to join him there, I slow down to a light jog. I don’t want to risk being out of breath when I sit down next to him.

As I walk up to the attendant, my stomach decides to remind me what happened the last time I was on a tilt-a-whirl. For a split second, I consider waiting, I could greet Simon as he’s getting off the ride. But then I realize that joining him is a way to show him how much he means to me. How much I’m willing to stick my neck out for him. Or, in this case, risk my stomach. But I command my guts to behave and hand my ticket to the attendant.

As I walk over to Simon’s pod, I can see he’s leaning back with his eyes closed. He looks a little sad, and resigned. It occurs to me that by coming onto the tilt-a-whirl, he’s clearly given up on the possibility of Blue coming tonight. I’m a little excited to prove him wrong.

I slide in next to him. “Can I set here?” I ask.

Simon opens his eyes and looks at me. He doesn’t say anything, but loosens the seatbelt to let me join him.

I can see that underneath his hoodie, he’s wearing the Elliott Smith shirt. If he didn’t read the note before he sent that email, he’s definitely read it now.

“I like your shirt.” I say. Is that enough to get him to realize it’s me?

“Thanks. It’s Elliott Smith.” He responds.

I look into his eyes. His beautiful moon grey eyes.

“I know.”

I feel like I can almost pinpoint the exact second that it all crystallizes in his brain. His expression changes ever so slightly and a tiny hint of a smile crosses his lips.

“It’s you.”

“I know I’m late.” I’ll give him a better explanation for my being late after the ride is over but I’m suddenly reminded that I just signed up for two and a half minutes of torture as the tilt-a-whirl roars to life.

I clench my eyes shut and will myself not to puke. I look down and focus all my attention and energy on keeping my stomach under control. It’s threatening to betray me the entire time. I’m 100% sure Simon would forgive me if I barfed on him, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really, really, _really, really_ don’t want to.

I open my eyes for the briefest of seconds and I can see that Simon is trying his best to control the wheel in the centre of the pod to keep the spinning to a minimum. It’s not helping, but I love him for trying.

When the ride finally slows down, I thank the karma Gods for keeping my stomach contents in place. Even if I still feel queasy.

“Sorry” I manage to say.

“It’s okay. Are you okay?” He asks me. 

I just focus on breathing in and out and not spilling my guts. “Yeah, I will be.”

I sit down on the curb and put my head between my knees. Simon sits down beside me and doesn’t take his eyes off me.

I don’t look up at him. “I only just got your email. I was sure I was going to miss you.”

I want him to know that’s the reason I was late, not that I was hesitating about coming. When he asked me to meet him here, I didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” He says.

“It’s me.” I dare to open my eyes. “You really didn’t know?”

“Not a clue.” He says.

I don’t know how to feel about that. I guess I really wanted him to guess it was me. I know that’s not fair of me to put that on him.

I turn my head towards him. “I thought I was so obvious. I think I wanted you to know.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

A fair question. I know that’s a fair question. I just don’t know how to fit all my insecurities about Simon and Cal and the prospect of _coming out_ into one adequate answer.

“Because…… Because if you had been looking for it to be me, I think you would have guessed it yourself.”

I cringe. That was not a fair way to answer and I know it.

“But you never gave me any clues.” Simon says.

“I did.” I respond and smile at him to try and set him at ease a little bit. “My email address.”

“Bluegreen118” Simon says, still working it out clearly.

“Bram Louis Greenfeld. My birthday.”

Simon cringes as he realizes it. “Jesus. I’m an idiot.”

I soften and look at him. “No, you’re not.”

He’s silent for a second, and then looks me squarely in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I say.

“For not figuring it out.”

“But it would be completely unfair of me to expect that.”

“You guessed it was me.” He says

“Well, yeah.” And I look down. I want to tell him the truth but I also don’t want to upset or embarrass him when I reveal just how long I’ve known that Simon and Jacques were the same person.

“I kind of guessed a long time ago. Except I thought maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.” I hope he gets what I mean by that.

I turn to glance at him and he’s looking at me with a kind of incredulous look on his face.

_He got it._

“I guess I should have shut up about who my English teacher is.”

“Wouldn’t have helped.”

“Oh no?” He asks.

“You sort of talk the way you write.”

“No freaking way.”

Simon shifts and sits a little closer to me. Our arms are almost touching and I feel my heart start to race in nervous anticipation.

We sit in silence for a moment. I’m so curious what’s running through his mind. He’s smiling a little to himself and staring out in the distance. Suddenly his brow furrows and he turns to me and asks. “But how are you a president?”

“What?”

“The same first name as a former president.”

“Oh.” As I realize he’s referencing our email exchanges from earlier, “Abraham.”

“Ohhhh.” He says. I guess he didn’t realize Bram is technically a nickname.

“And I can’t believe you rode the tilt-a-whirl for me.” He says. Smiling again.

So he does remember my fried Oreo story. I was wondering. I really hoped he did. I wanted him to realize what a significant thing it was that I rode the tilt-a-whirl for him.

“I must really like you.” I respond.

Simon leans in even closer to me. For a second I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. I realize I really want him to. 

But he doesn’t. Instead he says softly, “I want to hold your hand.”

I turn to him. I’m overwhelmed by how much I love being this close to him. I consider kissing him. But if he wants to hold hands, then we’ll hold hands.

“So hold it.”

And I feel him slip his hand in and thread his fingers with mine.

We sit there for another moment silently holding hands and smiling at each other.

After a moment, I hear my phone ding with a text message. I check it with my free hand.

_Garrett:_

_Ok. You two are holding hands and smiling at each other. I think that officially means I’m allowed to leave. I assume Simon will drive you home. Text me if you do actually need a ride._

Simon is quietly watching me as I quickly read Garrett’s text. I don’t reply and quickly put my phone away again. But I do make a point to remind myself to thank him _PROFUSELY_ for his help today.

“Everything okay?” Simon asks.

“Yeah. Garrett drove me here. He just texted me to let me know he’s leaving. You can drive me home, right?”

“Yeah. For sure.” Simon replies. “So, does that mean Garrett knows why you’re here?”

I look at him to see if he’s upset, but he’s not. I think he’s just curious. “Yeah. Garrett knows everything. I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course that’s ok.” Simon says empathetically. I love him for it.

I smile at him and he smiles back. I feel that electricity between us again. We’re still holding hands and sitting on the curb. I catch Simon glance down at my lips for a second and I know he’s thinking the exact same thing I am. But suddenly I see a carnival staff person awkwardly approaching us.

“Hi there, you two.” The guy says.

Simon doesn’t even wait for the guy to tell us that they’re closing down. He just responds, “Hi. Ya – don’t worry, we’ll head out.”

Simon stands up and holds his hand back out to me. I grab it and stand up too.

We walk hand in hand toward the exit. As we start heading up the stairs, Simon turns to me and says “I still can’t believe it’s you.”

I feel that familiar anxiety again. The Cal-related anxiety that has plagued me for the last two weeks.

I turn to Simon, “Are you disappointed that it’s me?” I ask. I _have_ to know.

“No! Not at _all_.” He says immediately. “Bram… your being Blue is, seriously, the best. Better than I ever hoped for.”

I feel a surge of warmth run through me.

“Okay. Good.” I say as we head toward Simon’s car.

Simon doesn’t ask me the same question, and I suddenly remember the note in the shirt.

“Simon, is today the first day you actually tried on the shirt?” I ask, as I reach for the door handle on the passenger side of Simon’s car.

Simon knows immediately what I’m getting at. “Yes – I only found the second note like ten minutes before I left to come here tonight.”

I just nod knowingly. “I wondered.”

“Believe me, Bram. If I had found the note before I sent you the email, I would have texted you immediately. Like, seriously. IMMEDIATELY.”

I chuckle a little bit. That response was _so_ Simon.

“I wondered. I worried you were maybe …. over me-”

“- _Definitely_ not." He shakes his head.

"And I seriously loved that note _a lot_.”

God, I want to kiss him so badly. But he’s driving so I obviously don’t.

We arrive at my house pretty quickly and Simon parks in the driveway, turns off the ignition and kind of looks at me expectantly.

"I wish I could hang out longer, but I promised my mom I would come home by 9:30pm". Simon says.

"Oh yeah, that's fine. I was super late, anyway. And we can hang out after school this week."

Simon looks like he has another question on the tip of his tongue. I don’t reach for the door because I want him to feel comfortable talking to me – whether whatever is coming is good or bad.

“So, Bram. What happens tomorrow at school?”

I turn to face him squarely. “What do you mean?”

“Are we a … _thing_? And, um. Does your showing up tonight mean you’re coming out? Or do you only want Garrett and me to know?”

“I want this to be a thing. If you do, that is. I want us to be together. And as for coming out. My parents know. Garrett knows and, um, yeah, as for everyone else, I’m not going to, like, make a formal announcement or anything, but I definitely don’t want to hide this either.” I say as I gesture between us.

“So yeah.." And I look at him pointedly. "I’m coming out.”

He’s looking right back at me. And suddenly this huge grin erupts on his face. Like he can’t help himself. I think this is the happiest I've ever seen him. But it's not just happiness, but also..... relief. It all fills me with a joy I can't even describe.

He nods and smiles enthusiastically. “ _Great_.”

I still want to kiss him, but we both seem really nervous. I know he’s kissed girls before, he’s had girlfriends. I haven’t kissed anyone before, and I’m not sure if he even knows that. But neither of us has kissed another guy before. That I know for sure.

I decide I’m not gonna push it tonight. We’re both in this. We’ll kiss soon enough. Probably in the next day or two.

“Ok.” I say. And I reach for the latch on the door. “See you tomorrow, Si.”

“Ya. See you tomorrow. And Bram?…..I’m looking forward to it. To tomorrow.” He makes a point of saying.

I pause for a second and turn to him. “Me too.” I say pointedly and look him in the eyes.

He just smiles at me.

“Goodnight, Si.”

“Goodnight, Bram.”

I get out of the car and walk toward my front door. I turn back and look at him once more and he’s clearly waiting for me to get inside. Once I unlock the door, I can hear Simon start the engine and start to back out of the driveway.

I close the front door and lean back against it for a second to try and catch my bearings. That went better than I could have ever dreamed. Suddenly I realize I’m shaking. I’m so worked up and my nerves are so frayed from spending a full hour with Simon. That was, by far, the most he and I have ever spoken in person. And I loved it. I loved how easy it was. The transition from talking to him by email to in person went … perfectly. Simon wants _me_. Me being Blue _and_ Bram. He doesn’t prefer Cal. He’s excited to be with me. He’s looking forward to seeing me tomorrow. God, it’s all wonderfully too much. And tonight was only the beginning.

I go to my room and fall onto my bed and take some deep breaths to try and calm my heart down. After a minute, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Garrett’s number. He deserves to know how the night played out.

Garrett answers without even saying hello.

“Okay! Tell me _everything.”_


End file.
